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Who: Persephone and Ryo
Where: Luggage Carriage
When: Orchestra 30
What: Ryo had a bad time on the network (his own fault) and needs a hug. Perhaps even two.
Warnings: None so far

Finding Ryo was no easy feat and it's honestly where she last expected him. There is no time in there for the requisite acquisition of small sweet baked goods. Instead she has only a handful of strawberries, plucked in a hurry and shoved in her hoodie pocket and slightly squashed and a bottle of water.

There are a thousand places on the train she would rather be than the luggage car but she doesn't say that. Persephone simply drops down beside him and wordlessly offers him a hug or the bottle of water. His choice.

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He'd been convinced that Persephone had gone to help Thanatos in the wake of their conversation. Ryo had messed up and hurt Thanatos. She'd had to intervene to stop him from making it worse. Thanatos deserved her support.

And he-

He'd run to the luggage car as fast as his legs could take him, helped along by the transgates. He could've picked the quiet car, but Thanatos liked the booth with the flowers, and even if Thanatos couldn't hear him, Ryo would still be able to Sense him, and the thought of that just-

He can't handle it.

So he's in the back of the luggage car instead, sitting against a wall with Lagos clutched tightly to his chest. He's not crying yet, but he's so, so close, trembling and unable to catch his breath. Lagos...well, the warbling he makes isn't exactly the most comforting noise, but he's trying his best. It'll be okay, okay? It's not the end of the world.

(It just might be the end of his friendship with Thanatos instead, Ryo thinks bitterly. It's not better, but he can't stop himself.)

He looks up when Persephone enters and doesn't take his eyes off her until she's sitting next to him. He'd known she was near when his Sense collapsed, but some part of him had still believed she was going to Thanatos right up until he saw her.

He'd been wrong again. This is definitely the better thing to have been wrong about.

He foregoes the water and leans against her instead, burying his face in her shoulder with a quiet whimper. He'd like the hug, please. He needs it.

If there is one thing Persephone is good at, it's hugs. She's soft, knows exactly the right pressure, and seems to have a pretty good sense on when to back off. Which is why she isn't letting go just yet. The air smells faintly of roses and green life as she holds him.

What to say is harder though. He was getting angry about all the wrong things, jumping to conclusions, assuming the worst. And Thanatos--Thanatos looked so hurt and upset and done. Persephone wants to lie and say he'll come around, but it's not entirely clear if that's true. At least not for a while.

"It's okay if you cry. This isn't even my hoodie." It's time for hair pats. Hair pats make her feel better.

Lagos warbles quietly - it's okay, put him down and hug her - and Ryo gently reaches him over and places him on a suitcase before wrapping his arms around Persephone and clinging. He tries to stop shaking, but trying only makes it worse, and instead he just clings tighter. Even if he can't calm down just yet, he does need this.

(The hair pats do help, as it turns out.)

He doesn't know what to say either - what is there to say? She'd heard what he said. She'd had to step in and keep him from making it even worse than he already had.

(And even then, it may have been enough to lose him Thanatos, if Thanatos thinks it over and decides a friendship with Ryo isn't worth the pain Ryo keeps putting him through, and the fact that Ryo isn't trying to hurt him doesn't matter when he keeps doing it anyway-)

It's okay if you cry catches him by surprise. It's permission he didn't know he needed, and it releases some catch in his heart, opening the floodgates and leaving him wracked with soft, choking sobs interspersed with the occasional pained whine. He hates this. He hates this. Why does he keep doing this? He doesn't want to hurt Thanatos, so why does he keep doing it? What's wrong with him?

(There are so, so many wrong answers with that question that he's been told throughout his life, and it's years of practice in ignoring them that keep him from alighting on any of them. It keeps him from finding any answer at all, but somehow, that's the better alternative.)

It takes time for him to cry himself out, but he finally does, leaving him sniffling miserably into Persephone's shoulder. He doesn't feel better - just heavy. He has no answers and no idea what to do. She'd come to help him and all he has is-

"I'm sorry."

Her thoughts churn as he cries, her hands always moving in soft soothing strokes. There still seems to be no right thing to say, nothing both true and kind. Nothing helpful that won't hurt.

When the sounds change from pained sobs to miserable sniffles, she pulls away just enough to snag that bottle of water and set it in his lap. It's possible the strawberries she brought are smashed beyond hope but finding out would expose her very bright move. For now, water.

"Drink that. Trust me, nothing is worse than a crying headache." Persephone is very insistent, giving him a firm but sympathetic look if he refuses.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He wants to turn her down - he doesn't want to do anything, doesn't want to move - but he can at least recognize that look and know what it means. He accepts the water bottle and adjusts to lean against her, shoulder to shoulder, before opening it and taking a drink.

Do you want to talk about it sinks in slowly, like ice down his back. Does he...she'd already heard everything, hadn't she? And he'd been so wrong - what if he messes this up and loses Persephone too?

But...what is it going to change, if he doesn't talk about it?

He'd started shaking his head, but it slowly turns into a nod, and he curls in on himself, shoulders hunched. He doesn't want to. He needs to. It's going to be bad. But it's all already terrible anyway-

"I don't know what to do." It's small and choked, but he manages it anyway.

"Well why don't we start with what you said."

Persephone wraps an arm around his shoulders and starts to speak. Then hesitates. Last time she pushed her views of things on people, it ended badly.

"I think he's right, you know. It's reckless to heal yourself to the point of passing out. You take a situation where one person is out of commission and change it just another person out of commission. And perhaps you heal the person entirely and they can keep fighting. But now the next person can't be healed by you."

He'd been right. This is bad.

His shoulders hunch more as she speaks. She doesn't get it. Of course she doesn't- no one does- he's the only one here from his world-

He swallows hard and yanks his mind away from that ever-present loneliness. Only one heartbreaking problem at a time, thank you.

"I-" He tries, and stops. What can he even say? She's already arguing against what he feels he needs to explain - what can he say that won't just be another fight? What can he say that won't lose him another friend?

"...if I explain, will you get mad?" His voice is as small as he's trying to be. It's been a long time since he's been afraid, really afraid, to speak up for himself, but the fight- no, the prospect of losing Thanatos- no, the prospect of driving Thanatos away has deeply shaken him.

Oof. Well, that's a fair question. Ryo had been trying in his own way to explain before. Persephone holds in a grimace at the idea of arguing about this--with him fragile and her trying to act as both comfort and voice of reason. But he sounds so--so scared to even speak.

"I won't get mad. I might not agree with it though. Just being honest and upfront. But I won't be mad at you."

It's been so long since they met that she'd forgotten what he'd been like. He'd sort of come into his own, finding a place and a purpose and a confidence. It's sad to see it all shattered.

I won't get mad is what he needs to hear right now. She probably won't be happy with everything he says, but at least she'll know. At least someone will know.

(Understanding, he thinks, might be too much to ask for. His world is so different from everyone else's...)

He takes a shaky breath, lets it out, and takes another, trying to get his feet back under him - metaphorically, that is - or at least relax his shoulders a little. She's going to listen. She's not going to get mad. She wouldn't lie to him. This much, at least, is okay.

(Nothing's okay - not really - but at least he can try.)

He puts the cap back on the water bottle, sets it down next to Lagos, takes another breath, and starts, voice steady as he can make it but still soft. "My world is dangerous. There's accidents and wildlife, but there's also beasts and ill-tempered demons and even worse-tempered humans. We have medicine, but there's no mana drives or potions or anything like that - if you're hurt badly and need help, there's only healers. And we- our magic lets us connect our lives to someone else's and repair their lives using ours. It can be exhausting, but it doesn't hurt us - healers are the only mages who can do that without getting hurt. And- and if someone is too far gone for us to help, we know when we try to connect - there's no surprises that way, and we can stop before we do something that would kill us. It's- it's risky - everything's risky - but it's not dangerous."

He pauses and tries to think. That's- that's not going to be enough, is it. Everyone's stuck on-

"And- we don't really pass out often." It's not a strong argument, and he knows it, but nothing about him is strong right now. Take a breath. Try again. "When-" Nope. Again. "Healers aren't usually made for fighting. Our magic doesn't work if we're injured too badly, so if things get violent, we have to hide or get away until it's over. It's warriors who face down beasts and bandits and make sure everyone else makes it out safe, and we patch them up afterwards. They put their lives on the line, and we help them keep them if we can. But- but if things get bad..."

He trails off and looks down. How does he explain this? How does he describe the apprehension and knife's-edge focus of holding a life in your hands, and knowing that making a mistake or letting go will mean that life is gone for good? The bone-deep terror when that life is someone you love, and the knowledge that if you can't save them, you will lose them?

As best he can, because that's all he has. "Healing people can be exhausting, if there's a lot of injuries or it's a long day, but pulling someone back from the edge of death...we don't have to do it very often-" Thank the gods. "-but it takes it out of us. I've had my magic for seven years, I've been traveling for three, and I've only had to do it once. I..." He'd been fourteen, months into traveling, weeks into his mentorship with Keita, and for a moment he can feel the unseasonable cold of that late autumn night, sprinting down the street, praying that he wasn't too late and fighting off the terrifying knowledge that he still stood to lose them if he didn't do everything - didn't perform a skill he'd only learned minutes ago - exactly right-

"I...pulled one of my friends back from the edge, and kept the other from following him. I managed to stay awake until my mentor arrived, and then...the next thing I knew, it was the next day." It was another year before he'd learned that he hadn't been perfect - that there had still been traces of poison left in Endon that Keita had had to remove once he'd arrived. Endon had never been in as much danger as Orion, though - Ryo had managed to be perfect helping Orion, and they'd both lived.

If he'd arrived a few minutes later, Orion wouldn't have.

He shakes his head. "No one likes doing it - it's terrifying, and then you lose time, but...it's better than letting someone die. Things are easier here, when it comes to helping people, but that's still the same - I'm not letting anyone die if I can prevent it."

It's...an explanation. It's context. It's something, at least. Hopefully it's enough. Hopefully it helps.

He reaches for the water bottle again, pauses, and scoops Lagos back into his lap. He could use all the support he can get right now.

Persephone listens. And true to her weird, she isn't mad. Not at him, not at what he said. But it's sad. It's sad that people put so much on the healers, that he clearly feels like he has to do this no matter what. There's some strange undercurrent to the way he tells it, like--like... Gods she wishes she could put her finger on it

"Having peoples lives in your hands isn't something I'd understand. Not like how you mean it. And I understand that your world was harsh and your abilities were valued. But it feels a little like there were as much expected as valued."

She struggles to find the words, "This isn't a caravan with a single healer and a handful of warriors to keep you safe. If you choose to sit out a mission, no one would fault you. No one expects you to put yourself and your well being on the line. We will be grateful when you heal someone, just like you might be grateful when someone protects you. But it didn't mean we can't be upset to see you taking on a responsibility for the whole train and its well being. It takes a whole train of beings to take on these missions, why would you be responsible for everyone all by yourself? You aren't by yourself anymore."

He opens his mouth and closes it again uncertainly. He's explained something wrong, or she doesn't understand what he's getting at- or he doesn't understand, which is more likely given today's events- but- but if he argues, will she leave? He can't handle ruining another friendship today-

His trepidation is obvious on his face, and in his lap, Lagos warbles softly - as soft as he can manage, at least - trying to comfort him. It's okay. You can explain. She said she wouldn't get mad, remember?

He takes a breath and picks up Lagos in both hands, trying to calm himself. "Nobody took advantage of me, or any other healer," he says, voice still quiet - he can barely bring himself to argue, let alone speak up. "People take care of their healers as much as we take care of them. It's mutual." He'd have thought it possible he was missing something about it back home if it was just him, but he'd seen how the people of Arkwood treated Keita and how he treated them in turn. There's a balance there; he's certain of that much.

"But here..." This is dangerous. This is where he'd misunderstood. This is where he'd lost Thanatos-

He swallows, screws up what little of his courage he can find, and continues. "I'm the only one with magic that works the way mine does. I'm the only one who can help the way I do. I've already done it twice - when another healer couldn't finish the job, I could. I know I don't have to go on missions, but if I don't, and someone gets hurt in a way would've needed my magic to heal - if someone gets killed - I could never forgive myself." His voice falters, and he does his best to keep going anyway. "I know I'm not alone, but- but that doesn't mean I don't need to be there."

Persephone would grip his hand, if he wasn't holding Lagos. In the end, she settles for touching his shoulder, gentle but firm. There. And she listens. And well--she tables the first part. Maybe he just phrased it in a way that felt off to her ears. But this part--gods.

"You're special. This is true. You have abilities that no one else on the train does. But you would have given me the third degree if I had done something similar when I was bringing in the green on Erda. You get upset at everyone else for running themselves ragged, for pushing themselves to their limit, but with you it's fine. With you, it's 'oh I can take the tea'. So many people are special on this train, Ryo. Your skillset is useful, sometimes incredibly so. But you are not and should not be responsible for everyone. You can't be."

She breathes out, "You need to stop holding yourself to account for every misstep everyone else makes. It wouldn't be on you if someone got killed. It wouldn't be on you if they got a freaking papercut. Helping people isn't all you're good for, you know?"

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